Noise Pollution
by TheNotSoTalentedPoet
Summary: Semi Real World A/U. Roxas, a troubled but gifted young musician meets and befriends a group of fellow rejects. The fiery and unpredictable Axel, the stoic and repressed Xion, and the kindhearted but broken Aqua. Coming from different backgrounds in many senses, these four strive to become known among us all. Their music will take the world by storm. They are Noise Pollution.


**Noise Pollution**

**Disclaimer: For the uninformed, I don't own Kingdom Hearts. If I did this would be a spinoff game/manga/anything other than a fanfic.**

**Just a warning, there will be an underage relationship portrayed here, so if that offends you, avert your eyes immediately. I do not condone these relationships in real life, but this is fiction and I can't say I don't have fantasies regarding this sort of situation.**

**And, for those who care, feel free to post how many references made that you catch. Happy reading!**

**Chapter 1**

There were a lot of things that could be said about Roxas. Disaffected, solemn, angsty and a plethora of others used to describe a typical teenager. However, the most commonly agreed upon description was closed-off. No one had ever really managed to reach him, giving a rather frigid aura. This helped to dissuade the vast majority of people from reaching out to him, thus completing the vicious cycle.

This unflappable persona that was shrouded in an icy enigma would be hard to associate with the boy lounging about in his room, headphones on, feeling the rhythm in utter silence. Tapping his fingers in a laughably bad imitation of the polyrhythm blaring in his ears, he broke out into a pensive, yet content smile. The drab, under decorated room, consisting of a bed with a plain comforter, a practically barren desk, a couple of sparsely filled shelves, save for a nearly full shelf of CD's, a basic but worn-in stereo, an electric guitar and amplifier, and a high-backed wooden chair. Breaking his silence to emphatically scream the final line of, "I know the pieces fit!" the pale, blue-eyed blonde took a sip of the water directly adjacent to him, musing over the myriad of things that the song described in his interpretation.

'_Everybody…. Just everybody. We always seem to fall apart, breaking the puzzle. It's no one's fault, at least in hindsight. But, there's almost never a way back, since the strife leads to something of substance if you let it. It's a slippery slope, and silence can ensure a fatal slip, making us lose our sense of compassion. '_He thought.

Ending the contemplation right there, Roxas let his posture become even worse with a slump. Resting his socked feet on the desk, he twiddled his thumbs in anticipation for the next track, seeing how it was another emotional roller coaster. Halfway through the song, he noticed that a thunderstorm had started some time ago; with the flashes of lightning giving the space he occupied a refreshing sense of ambience. No doubt influenced by the scenario at hand, Roxas proceeded to pick up his guitar and began to strum some chords, basically just playing what felt right, ignoring the rigid and fixed concepts of scales and structure in order to play from the heart. With his long, slender fingers delicately dancing across the strings, he stumbled upon a riff that he had been hearing in his head for the longest time. After a bit of tweaking and a couple of sour notes, Roxas had come upon yet another part of some yet unfinished song. This was a rather common occurrence, as in the two-and-a-half years he had been fiddling about with the delicate instrument; he had composed dozens of riffs that left sitting with no part to combine them with. Lately though, he had been coming up with more structured and extensive pieces, and this latest one was clearly his best yet.

After working out the kinks, Roxas pondered over the emotion that the music invoked in him, eventually settling on a sense of wistfulness, leading into a bitter rage once it crescendoed. Repeating the riff in an attempt to find a vocal melody, he discovered that one came to him extremely easily. Afterward, he picked up his journal from the floor to write the melody out, seeing how he had a verse and chorus readymade. Marking down the syllables in scat singing terms, he mused over a couple of lines of his oh so wonderful prose, with such highlights as, "Trapped inside…. What seems to be…. A windowless room…. No light, no sound…. Accepting what's given to me." Bemoaning the fact that they seemed rather pedestrian, he admittedly saw potential in them. '_If only they sounded less stereotypically angst riddled, though they're not awful. They just look like a teenager wrote them. I may be one, but the connotation invoked is just skin-crawling_.'

Stripping off his clothes in the wake of an ever impending slumber, Roxas reflected on an event that had occurred the previous day. Said event had resonated with him, despite occurrences like this being fairly common. Maybe all the similar events had piled up and this one was the proverbial straw in the scenario where the camel's back was broken. Either way, the recollection was very vivid.

***The Previous Day***

Roxas, having made his recurring decision to skip lunch, was passing the lunch hour by lounging in the library. He was sitting cross-legged on the second floor, obscured from view by three conveniently placed bookshelves, when a gaggle of students came wandering in. He briefly thought of their names, quickly discerning their identities as that of Hayner, Pence, and Olette. Not noticing the solitary blonde, they proceeded to initiate a conversation between the three of them.

"Man, fucking Miss Gainsborough!" Hayner said.

"Dude, keep your voice down," Olette said, "I'm not getting in trouble just because you got screwed when it comes to who you hafta work with on a group project. "

"Sorry, but you know I got completely fucked, right?" Hayner replied in a more even tone. "I mean, of all the people I had to get stuck with, it just HAD to be him. No one else, even Seifer, God forbid, was left alone. So, of course I get stuck with the wallflower who never fucking speaks."

"How is that a problem?" Pence queried.

"It's a problem cuz the prick wouldn't fucking talk to me," Hayner responded. "The little bitch just sat there and read the book we were assigned. Our report isn't due for a month, and he's fucking reading the book immediately. He wouldn't chill out and talk casually, and I tried man, I really tried to give him a chance, and he walled me off. "

Roxas, having overheard this exchange, scoffed. _'Yeah, sure. You just talked at me nonstop about stupid shit, like girls, Call of Duty, Tyga, and other nonsensical things, so even if I did wanna talk, I wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise. And yes, reading is soooo scandalous, why, it makes you more intelligent. Oh, the horror!' _

"Well," Olette said, "Look on the bright side. He'll probably do all the work for you, leaving you to retain your unchanged routine of just screwing around. That, plus the fact that Whatshisname is constantly outscoring everybody on exams, and you really need an A, seems to make this a great situation."

"But everybody likes me! Not counting Seifer and his gang, no one at this school is that cold to me. I'm not friends with everybody, but I can chat with anybody. It's just not something that happens, and he was being a total asshole."

"You sure you weren't just talking with your mouth on autopilot, as opposed to, say, asking him a simple question?" Pence asked.

"Positive." Hayner responded, "He just sat there with his nose in the book, being all silent and moody and stuff. It was bizarre, cuz I've never seen anybody who could ignore me like that."

'_It was indeed a challenge, fuckhead,'_ Roxas thought.

"Then you should just leave the little oddball all by his lonesome," Olette said, "That way he does all the work, leaving you to just camp out on your lazy ass and coast through the next month with no hassle."

"Good idea!" Hayner replied, "Now I'll finally get an A in English, and I won't have to lift a solitary finger to do it. Fuckin' A!"

"Well," Pence said, "let's amscray before we get bitched out for being too loud in the library, all because someone's on his pissy little man period."

"Fuck you man, but yeah, let's leave. This place is a haunting ground for losers, freaks, and other undesirables. Don't wanna ruin our reputation now, do we?

'_I guess you don't,'_ thought Roxas as they turned around to leave. _'After all, who wants to be seen with me, Undesirable Number 1?' _

***End Flashback***

Pushing aside his irritation at having to do the work by himself, not that that was in any way unorthodox, Roxas had already finished the book, and was going to start writing the analysis that was due in a months' time. Not that the work was exceptionally difficult, as the book was neither completely black-and white, nor was it endless shades of grey, but a rather happy medium that was simple easy to grasp, but could still invoke a lot of thought regarding both alternate and deeper meanings.

The frustration was borne from the fact that, like always, the partner he had been assigned had thrown the entire workload off on him. The most infuriating part was that the ever so lovable Hayner would take credit, when in actuality he would just sit and watch as the little kicked puppy known as Roxas did all of everything required.

_'It's not like I'm desperate for his help due to his keen intellect,'_ Roxas mused while in the midst of brushing his teeth, _'Rather, I'm pissed that this fucker is doing the same thing as everyone else, just leaving it all up to me. I'd probably do most of the work myself regardless, but it would be nice to have someone offer a hand, maybe leading to a discussion that leads to a deeper understanding of the material in question, just something. Something that shows them to not be another popularity-obsessed, vacuous, simpering little fool. Something that showcases a sense of decency and compassion, which most of my peers seem to be sorely lacking. It's not impossible, but I see no evidence among those whose presence I am continually in. If punishment comes to those who dare to cross the line, then why not for these jerk-offs? It's just another boundless maybe regarding the actual reason, but it's far from an uplifting sentiment.'_

After clearing his oral cavity of the many invaders that had previously plagued it, Roxas proceeded to climb into bed, awaiting the sweet release of slumber. Having recently broken his chronic cycle of insomnia, he was quite worn out, but, as is typical, matters of emotional distress kept him far from the realm of dreams. He lay awake in a half-conscious daze, tossing and turning, all the while never slipping into a sorely needed sleep.

It was there that the dam broke. Despite the aura of calm, cool headedness that he projected, Roxas did in fact feel emotions. He was adept at hiding them, but even the most frigid of people let their emotions get the best of them. Proving himself to be susceptible to this notion, Roxas finally let it out and cried. His shoulders shook with the force of his desperate sobs, his chest heaved with the strain of taking in air. His head was buried in his pillow in an effort to muffle the noise he was making with his wet, loud, and tortured cries. Mucous was dripping from his nose and combining with the rivulets of tears streaming down his face, forming a very unpleasant tasting cocktail that was created from bitter misery. For how long he cried, he had no clue; it could have been anywhere from five minutes to five hours.

After an extended period of bawling his eyes out, Roxas finally came to. Shaking his head and drying his by now quite moist facial area, he began to voice coherent thoughts again.

'_That was the first time I've cried since…. Since….'_

He couldn't find the strength to finish that thought, as the wound was still gaping and wide, despite being far from recent. If there was one thing that gnawed at him every day since it had happened, it was this. No amount of time or therapy had done anything to dissuade the emotional cataclysm that had ensued I the wake of it. Everything that was perfect was gone, leaving behind a broken and bitter shell of a life. It had up and left, leaving him with the dead and hopeless.

**A/N: As is probably apparent, this is my first story. For those who do so, read and review, enjoy, and I'll see ya next time.**

**-TheNotSoTalentedPoet**


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